


Blood Before Faction

by bananawrites



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth, Haikyuu!!
Genre: Divergent AU, Here's my second Haikyu!! fanfic lmaooo, Multi, TeruOi, blood tw, iwaoi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:35:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananawrites/pseuds/bananawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Oikawa has to make the hardest decision of his life and try to live with it. Or will there be harder decisions? He never really understood what he wanted in life, behind the wall.</p><p>Or: Divergent AU for Haikyu!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Before Faction

**Author's Note:**

> Here goes nothin' :^)
> 
> Neither Haikyu!! nor the Divergent series belongs to me!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

     “Tooru Oikawa.”

 

     Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. The young man stands, parting from the warm comfort of his seat, eyes staring at nothing but his own fate. His hands shake, shoes smacking the ground as he makes his way to the bowls that hold the blood of many other young adults. Yet he smiles, the expression seeming to tear at his skin and entire being.

 

     The brunette treads up the steps, straightening his suit simultaneously and trying his best not to trip due to the weight of his nerves. Said suit seems to be strangling his body, hugging his hips and scratching against his skin like cold sandpaper. Tooru’s body is now poised in front of the bowls that are set on the curved table before him. He looks up, picking out the different faces in the crowd that were staring into his soul. Iwaizumi. Mother. Father. Mamoru. Takeru. The most important people to him. Tooru focuses in on his parents and Iwaizumi, the three of them sitting together with intense, blank expressions. They wear grey clothes, hands in their laps and heads angled straightforward. Iwaizumi’s calculating green eyes lock with his, an unwanted chill accompanying the exchange. Iwaizumi has yet to make a decision as well. He takes a step closer to the fateful knife, shattering the eye contact between himself and his childhood friend with a heavy sense of regret. Chocolate orbs shift to a sea of blue and black. He immediately picks out the young, pudgy face of Takeru. The young man’s heart wrenches once he realizes that his nephew possesses somewhat of a sad smile, the tiny hands in his lap twitching as if he wants to reach out to his uncle. And he probably does. A comforting hand appears on Takeru’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. The brunette’s eyes travel from hand, to arm, and finally to face. Mamoru, Takeru’s father. Tooru’s older brother. Throat tightening, he swallows as Mamoru pulls his son close against his side, attempting to shield him from the strong emotions that are swimming within everyone during this particular ceremony. Oikawa meets his older brother’s eyes, heart nearly stopping as he takes in his appearance. Slicked back chestnut hair, sharp cheekbones, eyes that look exactly like his own. When the brothers were younger, they were often mistaken as twins. Yet the possibility was quickly diminished when one realized the large age gap. Oikawa lands at the age of 16, and Mamoru just recently turned 26. When Mamoru was ten years old, Tooru was born.

 

     God, he misses Mamoru. It’s been nearly six years since he left home for Erudite. They’ve met several times in secret, however, and it was only possible due to the favoritism of Abnegation’s leader and the ignorance of Erudite’s. The first visit was when Mamoru told them he was newly married to Amaya, and Erudite born woman. The next time, they told them she had become pregnant with Takeru. Every time Takeru became a year older, they would visit. Tooru  _ loves _ Takeru. He sees Amaya as a lovely sister-in-law and excellent mother, too. Their final visit up until this point was when Takeru had turned four years old. Looking at the boy now, Oikawa recalls that his nephew will turn five years old in a week. He winks at Takeru to reassure him, trying his best to ignore the wet shine in his eyes. Would he never see him again unless he chose Abnegation or Erudite? Amaya sits on Takeru’s other side, rubbing his arm rhythmically to comfort him. When Tooru meets her eyes, she nods her head.  _ Do what is right for you.  _ His nose stings from oncoming tears, and he fights the sensation.

 

_      “What are my test results? Abnegation? Erudite?” _

 

     Oikawa picks up the knife, the light from the bulbs above glinting off of its silver surface and creating an uncomfortable, blinding light. The reflection of his face appears on the blade as he angles it at himself out of curiosity. His smile looks so utterly fake, cheeks twitching ever so slightly at the strain. He’s scared. What could he possibly choose?

 

_      “Oikawa-san, I’m afraid I have some dire news to tell you.” _

 

     The bowls seem to grow bigger in his mind, hovering around his brain and teasing him silently. Abnegation, the selfless. Dauntless, the brave. Erudite, the intelligent. Amity, the peaceful. And Candor, the honest.

 

_      “Hmm? Dire? What’s the problem?” _

 

     Inside each bowl is something entirely different from the rest. Within his current faction’s bowl are grey, orb-like stones spattered with blood. Their plain appearance certainly doesn’t stand out to him, but it’s all he knows. There are crimson patterns of blood that seem to be leaking through the cracks of the stones, undoubtedly pooling at the bottom of the bowl. The brunette’s eyes flicker to the next bowl: Amity, the most relaxed faction of them all. Inside the smooth bowl resides fluffy, damp soil that seems to be clean and bright. He can’t see the blood that had well soaked into the dirt. Amity has never really stood out to Tooru. He doesn’t like farm work, and the peace serum seems all too fake to him. Inside of Candor’s bowl, there are shards of glass that seem to point up at him accusingly. The blood is staining them, giving the shards a dark, red glow to add to his discomfort. Oikawa moves on quickly, the corners of his lips quirking down toward the ground. Wary eyes settle on the bowl belonging to Erudite, the water within seeming to ripple in the still air. The tall, young man takes a step closer to this particular bowl of fate, raising his hand over the water and poising the knife. The edge of the blade tickles his skin. If his blood spills into the water, he will be one of them. Erudite. Tooru can be with Takeru, Mamoru, and Amaya. He’d never have to worry about forgetting their faces.  _ But… _ He looks back at Abnegation’s bowl. If he makes the incision above that bowl, he can stay with his parents. And possibly Iwaizumi. They all mean so  _ much _ to him.

 

_      “I’m afraid your results were inconclusive, Oikawa-san.” _

 

     Oikawa’s eyes shift to the final bowl, the knife freezing in it’s spot upon his chilled skin. Small, curly wisps of smoke are climbing into the air as they reach for the ceiling. The coals below hiss, the sound itself becoming similar to numerous, excited whispers. The brunette widens his eyes, a spark seeming to ignite in his heart. Dauntless. He doesn’t know anyone who is Dauntless. Yet… he recalls being rescued by one when he was five. Iwaizumi had only been able to stand by the lake and panic as he watched the saturated head of his best friend bobbing in the water, limbs flailing about. Iwaizumi couldn’t swim either, so he had begun to scream for help. The handsome Dauntless-born boy dove right into the lake without a word, bringing him up and tugging him to safety. Tooru will never forget the way Iwaizumi crushed him in a hug, soaking himself whilst he scolded him worriedly. The tall, Dauntless boy was someone he will never forget, either.  The blonde hair that spiked over short, cropped chestnut. The look of adrenaline in his eyes, and a smile as wide as the sun. Yuji Terushima, the daring hero boy with too much energy. He remembers how shocked he and Iwaizumi were upon hearing that Terushima was five, too. How had he known how to swim at that age? The Dauntless boy had a simple reply: “ _ That’s the way of the Dauntless!” _

 

_      “Hah?! Inconclusive? That’s impossible! I got Abnegation and Erudite, right?” _

 

     Terushima had already chosen his faction, which was unsurprisingly Dauntless. Seeing the lake hero’s blood spill onto the coals had been the first time that Oikawa had seen him since that very incident. He still looks as handsome and energetic as he remembered him to be. Mind still, Tooru steps toward the Dauntless bowl, a fire in his eyes.  _ I want to be like him. _ He thinks, surprising himself.  _ I want to be different. I don’t want to be selfless and plain, like I always thought I was. I’ll never be as intelligent as Mamoru, anyway. Never as thoughtful and considerate as Iwa-chan. I want to keep moving. I need to  _ do _ something. _

 

_      “You are Divergent, Oikawa-san.” _

 

_      But I  _ am _ intelligent and selfless. I’m also peaceful, truthful, and brave. But am I even that brave? I’m sort of a crybaby, aren’t I? I’d never survive as a Dauntless initiate.  _ He thinks negatively, flinching when the crowd begins to cough and shift uncomfortably, signaling that he’s taking too long.

 

_      “Will I die?” _

 

     It’s time. Tooru slides the knife down his skin, thick drops of blood raining into the bowl. The coals sizzle hungrily, burning the crimson liquid as if to remove the evidence.

 

_      “No.” _

 

     Silence. Eerie, cold silence that crawls across his skin. He dares to meet Iwaizumi’s eyes. His jaw is hanging open.

 

     And then there is the roar of freedom, black-clothed people to the right jumping out of their seats and positively  _ screaming.  _ Tooru finds himself grinning once he looks at them, jogging toward the steps and nearly tripping on his way down. The brunette makes his way over to his new faction, giggling like a child. He receives several slaps on the back from people with wild hairstyles and unique tattoos. Terushima rushes forward, that sunny grin back on his cheeks as he grips his shoulder and squeezes it. Oikawa would recognize that undercut anywhere. “Hey, it’s Tooru Oikawa! Do you remember me saving your ass from drowning?”

 

     Oikawa laughs, it’s tone as bubbly as a soft drink. “Of course! How could I forget?” He asks, elbowing his friend gently.

 

     Terushima joins in on the laughter, grabbing his wrist and tugging him along to some empty seats. “Sit with me, Tooru! There’s some empty spots up here!” The Abnegation-born nods, smiling brightly as he takes a seat next to the rambunctious teenager. Once silence falls upon them like rain once again, he can’t help but look over at the other factions. The next person is already making their way to the stairs, and most eyes are forward. All except for his family. And Iwaizumi. Oh, Iwaizumi. He meets his best friend’s eyes, heart plummeting into the depths of his stomach. After fully registering Iwaizumi’s glare, Oikawa’s eyes drop down to his lips, ready to read their movement with practiced accuracy from when they were kids. They had to lip-read each other’s words almost too often when they had to be silent for certain ceremonies or during time-outs. During those times, the silent words exchanged were pleasant, funny, and even comforting. But now… Tooru furrows his brow, watching as Iwaizumi’s lips move slowly. He reads the words behind it immediately.

 

_      How could you? _

 

     As if he’s been shocked, Oikawa jerks his head away from Iwaizumi, filling his lungs with cold air. He has no response. What could he even mouth back to him? Nothing. Instead, Oikawa watches the short male approaching the stairs, the previous person having chosen Candor. He squints, noting the orange, wild hair that looks similar to a fireball from those fabled volcanoes he hears about. Tooru then takes in his clothes, recognizing the bright, differentiating colors. He’s Amity-born for sure. The teenager picks up the knife, a look of fiery excitement in his eyes as he steps right up to the Dauntless bowl. Oikawa is a bit shocked, leaning forward and watching with wide eyes as the short boy makes the incision, his blood slipping into the jaws of the bowl. He swears he can hear him exclaim “ _ Ouch! _ ” before the Dauntless begin to roar again like a pack of lions. Terushima is tugging him up to his feet, yelling at the top of his lungs and waving his other arm around. Oikawa finds himself grinning once again as he allows himself a good scream, one solely dedicated to the new Dauntless shrimp. The fireball screeches too, but Tooru can hear his voice crack. He sits down, watching the other teenager scurry for an empty seat down below.

 

     Tooru and Terushima begin talking in hushed whispers while handfuls of people make their way to the bowls, cutting their hands and finding new factions to belong to. Every time someone chooses Dauntless, the duo jumps to their feet and whistles or screams, pumping their fists. The conversation resumes immediately afterward, and for some odd reason, Tooru can’t help but feel guilty for doing such a thing. He’s so used to staying silent the entire time, his lips sealed and mind wandering.

 

     But that was the old Tooru. This is who he is now. Daring, brave, and willing to break the rules if there’s no other option. While his friend talks about his family, Oikawa listens intently, his eyes focused on Terushima’s almond ones. Minutes later, another teenager joins Dauntless, though he seems to be Dauntless-born due to the spiked hair and black clothes. Before he and Terushima begin to talk again after shouting, Tooru looks over at Takeru, Mamoru, and Amaya. They all look to him, and he licks his lips nervously. Takeru gives him a thumbs up, smiling brightly and offering him some reassurance. And it works. Oikawa already feels better. Mamoru copies his son, and Amaya nods in an encouraging way. He feels better already.

 

     Tooru won’t even spare his parents a glance. Nor Iwaizumi.

 

     He begins to talk with Terushima again, finding himself entertained. The blonde shows him his ear and tongue piercings, too, and Oikawa grows fond of them already. Terushima tells him that his brother is the instructor of the Dauntless-born initiates, and his family has been in Dauntless for as long as they can remember. They have never strayed from the daring faction, nor do they want to.

 

     “Wow, really? That’s interesting. My father was an Erudite-born, but he later chose Abnegation for a more simple life. Even though it’s the only faction I know, I find it rather boring.” Oikawa mumbles, his eyes flickering up to the bald male who is cutting his hand over the Dauntless bowl. He jumps up and gives a good shout in time with Terushima and the rest of them, then sinks back down into his seat and resumes his explanation. “My older brother, Mamoru, chose Erudite.”

 

     “Really? Wow! Erudite’s are smart-asses, though.” Terushima whispers, eyes widening with curiosity.

 

     Oikawa chuckles, shaking his head. “He’s anything but. I wonder if I’ll see him again…” He murmurs, looking over at Mamoru and his family. They’re watching the next person climb the steps.

 

     Terushima follows his gaze, smiling politely. “He looks like you! Is that his wife and son?” He asks, referring to Amaya and Takeru.

 

     Tooru nods. “Mm. His wife Amaya had their child, Takeru.” He explains, and he can hear his friend make an amazed sound.

 

     “Hajime Iwaizumi.”

 

     Has that much time passed already? They’re nearly finished. Tooru watches his friend mount the steps readily, though he notes the stiffness in his steps. Iwaizumi won’t meet his eyes, and he doesn’t blame him. His childhood friend picks up the knife as if it were his only source of life, and Tooru can swear he sees his knuckles turn white against the handle. The room is silent as Iwaizumi steps toward Abnegation, moving the knife down his palm in a straight line.

 

     But he doesn’t break the skin. No blood is shed.

 

     The muscled teenager shifts over to the Dauntless bowl, eyes locking fiercely with Tooru’s as he cuts his hand. His blood drips onto the coals, painting them a deeper shade of burgundy.

 

     Well, Tooru certainly didn’t expect that to happen. Beside him, Terushima jumps up and yells, but he can’t stand up. The Dauntless-born blinks down at him in question, then pulls him up. “That’s your buddy, right? Don’t you wanna cheer for him?”

 

     His mouth is dry. What does this mean? Is Iwaizumi upset with him? What could he possibly mean by choosing Dauntless? Oikawa watches as his best friend makes his way to the empty seat on the other side of him, sliding back into his seat. Terushima does the same, smiling at their new member unknowingly.

 

     Once Iwaizumi finally sits down with a soft grunt, Tooru looks over at him and smiles sheepishly. “Ya-ho, Iwa-chaaaan…” He whispers, wiggling his fingers in greeting. Iwaizumi raises his foot.

 

     And drops it on Tooru’s.

 

     Oikawa has to bite his lip to keep from crying out, tears springing to his eyes. Surely his toe is now broken! 

 

     He’s about to whine  and complain when Iwaizumi leans over and whispers in an enraged tone. “What… were you  _ thinking _ ?!” He snaps, fists clenched and eyes blazing. The other male holds up his hands in a surrendered gesture, leaning against Terushima. The blonde merely blinks in confusion, patting his shoulder in some form of sympathy. “I thought you were going to choose Abnegation. You  _ said _ you were going to choose Abnegation!”

 

     “Shhh, Iwa-chan! The ceremony isn’t over yet!” Oikawa responds, holding his pointer finger up to his lips. Iwaizumi swats his hand away, growling like a mad dog.

 

     “You’re an idiot! The worst!” Iwaizumi claims, muttering these names fiercely under his breath.

 

     “Hey, now, Iwa-chan. This was  _ my _ decision. You could have chosen Abnegation yourself.” Tooru points out defensively, frowning.

 

     “Shut up, I know that. But…” Iwaizumi sighs, putting his face in his hands and muffling his words ever so slightly. “I don’t have anyone in Abnegation. No family, and no friends, now that you left. What was I supposed to do other than follow you?”

 

     “You didn’t have to follow me.” Though Tooru is extremely touched.

 

     “I know that, too. But Dauntless was my other test result, so I thought I might as well. I’d have become your parents’ new son if I had stayed, and as kind as that is, I couldn’t do it. Dauntless was the better option.” He explains, looking at Oikawa.

 

     “And you would miss me, wouldn’t you, Iwa-chan?” The brunette asks, beaming.

 

     “You wish.” Iwaizumi responds, turning his attention back to the stage with a sigh.

 

     “So, would you have chosen Dauntless if I myself had chosen Abnegation?” He asks, nudging his best friend’s arm. Iwaizumi’s frown grows deeper, but before he can repeat his question, everyone in the room is standing up. The ceremony is now over. Every Dauntless member is dashing for the door, clambering over one another and racing against what might be time. Terushima shrieks with joy, taking off like a rocket and swimming through the crowd. Oikawa looks over just in time to see his Abnegation-born friend following, disappearing into the crowd moments later. He propels his feet forward to start running as well, not wanting to be left behind.

 

     “Tooru!”

 

     Oikawa freezes in an instant, lungs refusing to release his breath. There’s a tug on the bottom of his long, grey jacket, and he turns around. Takeru. He’s smiling up at him like Oikawa is the most amazing person he’s ever laid eyes on. His nephew tilts his head. “Hm? Do I have something on my face?”

 

     “Takeru, you have to be careful!” He says, quickly kneeling down and hugging the small boy against his chest. The Dauntless teenager breathes in his scent, eyes closing briefly before yanking himself away. “Where’s your mom and dad?” He asks, committing the sight of the young boy to memory over and over again.

 

     “Probably looking for me. I wanted to see you, though!” Takeru tells him, excitement in his eyes.

 

     Tooru hurriedly hugs him one last time, squeezing the life out of his nephew. “Listen to me, okay? This is important, Takeru.”

 

     “Okay, uncle. What is it?” Takeru asks, hugging his uncle back just as tightly.

 

     “I know that all  _ you  _ know is faction before blood.” He breathes, whispering this in order for it to remain a secret exchange. People are giving them strange, contemplative looks, and he continues to speak quickly. “But that’s completely wrong. It’s blood before faction, no matter what.”

 

     “But-”

 

     “I’ll see you soon.” Oikawa cuts him off, pressing a faint kiss to his temple. “Stay safe. Tell Mamoru and Amaya I say ‘hi’  for me.” He pulls away, then, getting to his feet and dashing after his new faction before he can change his mind. He ignores Takeru’s call. He ignores when his nephew starts to run after him. He blocks out his pained scream when his uncle is out of sight.

 

     Tooru can see the people in black climbing the  ertical rails that lead to the train tracks like ants on a tree. They’re laughing as if they’d just won the lottery, occasionally screaming with joy and whistling. He pauses, immediately spotting Terushima and his wild hair at the top. He can see Iwaizumi climbing, and he’s nearly halfway there. The usual frown is on his face. Smiling slightly, Oikawa lunges himself into a sprint, eyes locked on the rungs he’ll soon be gripping with white knuckles.

 

     He skids to a stop once he’s there, climbing carefully and slowly. It’s as if he can feel the ground crawling away from him, not wanting his shoes to touch its surface. The brunette picks up the pace when he can feel the rails begin to shake, announcing the approaching train with a great rumble. He vaguely remembers watching the Dauntless hopping onto the train when he was younger and how he was confused on why they didn’t just walk to the closest stop. Now he has his answer.

 

     This is the Dauntless way. This is how things work in this faction.  _ His  _ faction. He’ll have to jump onto the train. If he doesn’t, Tooru will become a factionless. The thought alone makes him shiver as he swings himself onto the space parallel to the track, chest heaving. Iwaizumi looks down at him with disdain, yet offers him a hand. Not wasting a second, Oikawa grips it with his own and allows his friend to pull him to his feet.

 

     “You okay?” He asks in a gruff voice, just having caught his breath.

 

     “Of course! That was nothing I couldn’t handle.” Tooru chirps, dusting himself off and watching as the train begins to snake by them at a satisfactory paste.

 

     “Of course.” Iwaizumi retorts, rolling his eyes before he starts to run alongside the train. Oikawa allows himself a soft laugh, following close behind his friend and watching for an opening.

 

     “Is this hard for you, Iwa-chan?” Tooru asks, looking over his shoulder and eyeing a specific opening that was coming closer by the second.

 

     “No,” The raven snorts, “I’ve done this before.”

 

     “Ehhh?!” Tooru is shocked, his jaw going slack in surprise. “When? Where was I?”

 

     “Doing stupid things, I’m guessing.” Iwaizumi says, having to raise his voice over the constant grinding of the old tracks carrying the weight of the train and it’s passengers. Tooru is about to accuse him of being ‘ _ so mean! _ ’ when his opening begins to slide past him, jerking his attention away from Iwaizumi. He picks up the pace, managing to stay alongside it with aching feet and short breath. Swallowing, he launches himself at the opening, chest slamming against the edge and shifting his ribs back a bit. He cries out, gritting his teeth in embarrassment as everyone looks at him upon hearing the weak noise. They snicker, hanging off of each other as Oikawa’s lower half dangles outside of the train,

 

     “C’mon, Tooru!” Terushima encourages him, surging forward and hovering near his newly bruised body. Sucking in a breath, the Abnegation-born nods, ignoring the white, hot pain in his chest as he swings the rest of his body into the opening, gasping at the result. He’s safe. He won’t be factionless. Terushima beams, pulling his friend to his feet and looking him over. “That looked really painful. You okay?”

 

     Tooru nods despite the fact that his chest is aching, then looks around worriedly, a sense of dread settling in his heart. “Where’s Iwa-chan? Did he-?”

 

     “Here, you idiot.” Iwaizumi grunts, sliding up beside him and looking him over. “Did you hurt yourself? I knew you would.”

 

     The brunette smiles again, finally able to stand up straight once the immediate pain fades away temporarily. “I’m fine, Iwa-chan. It’ll just be a bruise.” He reassures him, smirking. “Awww, was Iwa-chan worried about me?”

 

     Iwaizumi glares. “I’ll throw you right back out of this train if you continue to piss me off.” 

 

     Terushima bursts out with laughter, clutching his chest. “You guys are too much! This’ll be interesting.” He says loudly, excitement in his eyes as he claps them both on the back.

 

     “I sure hope it will.” Oikawa murmurs, lips supporting a hopeful smile as he looks out of the opening. The building where the ceremony had just taken place fades away behind the trees they now passed, robbing him of his memories. Takeru, Mamoru, Amaya, and his parents. He’d never see them again.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Let me know if you would like more! Feedback is always appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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